


Ictus

by phandomoftheowl



Series: Green Like Envy [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phandomoftheowl/pseuds/phandomoftheowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise tries to be helpful, but fails. Midorima tries to be less stupid, but fails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ictus

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a stand alone piece but it goes hand in hand with my other fic in this series.

“Shin-chan! You made it.” Takao’s face is split in a wide grin. Midorima’s heart flutters because he’s the only one who makes Takao smile like that. 

Midorima pushes his glasses up his nose. “They are our seniors,” he says in a tone that hopefully implies _you idiot_ rather than _please keep looking at me like that forever and ever_. 

Takao tilts his head and nods at his shirt. “Where’d you get that? It looks new.”

He glances down at himself and forces himself not to blush. “I bought it a few weeks ago with Kuroko,” he says. There’s nothing for him to be embarrassed about anyway. 

“You went shopping with Kuroko?” Takao frowns for a second before his face lights up in a smile again. “Well, he has good taste.”

Just then, a shrill, giggly voice calls for Takao and he runs off, tossing a “Don’t be too boring, Shin-chan!” over his shoulder. 

“You look very nice in that shirt, Midorimacchi!”

Midorima almost jumps violently. Almost, but not quite. “Kise, what are you doing here? This is a party for Shutoku seniors.”

“Momoi-san mentioned you might like some company,” Kise replies, eyes wide with excitement, and damn Momoi for knowing everything about everyone all the time. 

“I don’t need a chaperone,” he tells Kise, no matter how much he really does appreciate having his company in a party he never really wanted to attend in the first place. Midorima doesn’t know what he was going to accomplish when Miyaji sent that text, but not coming had also felt like a big mistake.

“Then Midorimacchi can think of me as his date.”

“I don’t want to date you!” Midorima protests, glaring at Kise. He casts a quick look around to make sure no one overheard them, but they’re all too busy with their friends to pay attention to the small little corner Midorima and Kise have inserted themselves into. 

“Of course. I am not Takaocchi after all.”

“You really piss me off sometimes,” he murmurs under his breath, but doesn’t try to deny Kise’s statement.

“So mean, Midorimacchi! I was just trying to be nice.”

Instead of yelling at him to stop whining -- because he knows it’s pretty useless -- Midorima shrugs. “You’re here alone?” 

“Yes.”

“Hmph,” he says finally, for lack of anything better.

“I remember how Midorimacchi was at the party where Aominecchi spiked the drink,” Kise says with a mischievous expression. 

Midorima remembers that party, or rather, he remembers going to the party; everything else after the first hour or so is a messy blur. It was at Kise’s house because his parents were gone for the weekend and this had been his first championship game ever. He’d invited all six of them and Satsuki. Sometime during the night, Aomine, the bastard, had gotten hold of the alcohol. To this day, no one will tell Midorima just what it was he said or did that night, but they all taunt him with the knowledge, dangling it in front of him like a particularly desirable can of red bean soup. 

“You must tell Takaocchi about your feelings soon,” he says with the air of someone handing out valuable pearls of wisdom.

“Shut up, Kise. It’s none of your business.”

The other man only hums in a condescending manner and that annoys Midorima more than anything he’s said tonight. “You are worried Takaocchi will not return your feelings? Because I don’t think you should worry about that! Takaocchi considers you his very good friend, doesn’t he?”

“That isn’t --” He is suddenly being pulled down by the collar of his shirt until he and Kise are of equal height. “What --!”

Kise kisses him. 

This is not how he imagined his first kiss. He can feel everyone’s stares on them, can see his seniors and other people whispering about them. He can see the girls laugh and the boys shuffle awkwardly from side to side. Most of all though, Midoirma can see Takao staring over Kise’s shoulder. 

It’s not until Kise apologizes for taking his first kiss that Midorima realizes he said it out loud, that everyone heard him admit to never kissing anyone. 

Midorima punches Kise has hard as he can; he goes flying and Midorima hopes the bruise will stay long enough until his next modelling shoot. 

He strides out, careful not to catch anyone’s eye and once he is about ten feet away, Midorima breaks out into a run


End file.
